Broken Rain
by Kerfect
Summary: If you love someone, do you really let them go?


Title: Broken Rain  
  
Author: Kerfect (JustJackAngels@aol.com)  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Couple: Pacey/Joey, Dawson/Joey…well actually the couple thing is weird. Why don't you guys read it and tell me what the couple is, 'cause I can't figure it out.  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine, don't sue.  
  
Summery: Dawson dies and Joey and Pacey have to live with the consequences.  
  
A/N: I was feeling very philosophical when I wrote this, so it's riddled with bizarre symbolism and word choice. The idea is a bit morbid, but I think it's an interesting situation. I'm experimenting with this, so I'd love to know what you guys think.  
  
Broken Rain  
  
It was raining when Dawson died. It hit us all equally hard but her the hardest. I never dreamed that he would be the first. If anyone, it should have been me with my reckless driving. Not Dawson. He always checked twice before making a turn. It shouldn't have been him. The police didn't tell us much. All we knew is that he was speeding when, apparently, the car lost control on the wet pavement. I never really believed that. Why would Dawson speed? But years later she told me that they were suppose to have a date. And he was late. Late. Just late. Just because he was late to meet her, he forgot about his inhibitions.  
  
She made him forget things. Sometimes he would blow me off just because she called him. He would forget about the rest of the world because she was on the other line. Talking to him. It never used to amaze me what power and control she had over him ever since they were kids. Even before he realized his feelings for her. She was his princes. His link to the magical world that he always tried to capture in his movies. It's wasn't fair for him to die. He left her all alone. Broken. In this cold world. Ever since he left, it was raining. She was so lonely, and it tugged at my heart to see her suffer so much because of him.  
  
The sad part of the story is that Dawson wasn't the only one in love with her. I loved her just as much as he did. I loved her ever since I announced it to the whole Capeside on a wall I bought for her. I loved her even when we first broke up at our senior prom. It seems like such a long time ago. When we were kids. With kids' problems and with kids' fears. What happened to those times when the biggest problem I had was not passing an English test?  
  
We got married. It was the expected thing to do. Jen was the maid of honor and Jack the best man. It was raining that day. In fact, she wanted to have the reception outside, despite of it. Or maybe because of it. We did. She knew that I wouldn't deny her anything. All of our parents were there. Even my dad. It was a bit awkward, considering I haven't called home in years. Betsy and Body wished us good luck and happy years ahead. Little did they know.  
  
Now every time I look into her eyes I see rain. She cried for days on our honeymoon. She'd lock herself in the bathroom and cry. I wanted to comfort her, take her away her pain somehow, but I knew deep inside that I will never be enough for her. I never told anyone. Her hair smelled of wetness and sorrow ever since that day.  
  
At first I use to bring her flowers. I'd leave them on the coffee table when I would get back from work, not wanting to wake her. In the morning they would be exactly where I left them. Drying up without any water. I asked her about it once, she said water was killing them and that they would be much better off without it. I stopped bringing her flowers.  
  
On our one year anniversary I got her a gold locket she wanted. She got me cologne. Aqua Di Gio. His cologne. She looked at me, guiltily, handing me the package. She asked me to wear it from now on. I looked at her for a long time and agreed. I never refused her anything.  
  
A week later I found his picture in the locket. I never questioned it. I simply let it slide.  
  
I let it slide that she never smiled anymore like she use to. She no longer smiled at all. I let it slide that we stopped reading to each other and having conversations instead of watching TV. She never answered the phone any more. Not even if it was Jen or Jack. Eventually they stopped calling all together, getting the picture. At first I'd apologies for her at every get together for not coming, for not calling back, but after a while I stopped coming too. It was too painful. Their knowing stares and pitting looks.  
  
One day I got home from work and saw her all made up in new dress. I asked where she was going, but she looked away and said she was going to visit an old friend. That night I followed her. She drove to the cemetery and walked up to his grave. It was the middle of the night and she was crying. Pleading with him to forgive her for not being faithful. I turned around and left. I couldn't stand there, watching her devote her life to a ghost.  
  
She got home at dawn with a video tape. ET. I wondered where she got it. The stores must have been closed that late. I left to work and she was watching the tape. When I got home, she was still watching it. She was sitting on the floor, hugging her knees, not even lifting her eyes from the screen when I opened the door. I wanted to kiss her, but she turned away.  
  
She watched that tape for a week. Without eating, without sleeping. I pleaded with her to stop, to talk to me. She didn't even glance at me.  
  
The next morning I packed my things. Surprisingly there wasn't much to pack. I filed for the divorce that same day.  
  
I suppose you're wondering why I went on with this charade for all these years. Why I just didn't anole our marriage in the very beginning. There's a lot of reasons for that. The simple version is that I loved her. I loved her so much that I was willing to be blind to the fact that all this was tearing her apart. Tearing her inside, until I simply couldn't ignore it anymore. I suppose I was too selfish. Wanting her with me at any cost to her sanity. Now I know better. Maybe it is because I loved her, I was able to let her go, knowing that she will never return to me.  
  
We still see each other. For her or my birthday. I'm the only one she kept in touch with. The only person who knew what happened. Every time we get together, I wear the cologne, and every time I see her, I see the locket around her neck. Almost like a chain. I never regretted what happened. I knew it wasn't my fault. How can I ever compete with her love for a person that has been dead for years? Every time it rains, I stay indoors. I think about what happened and wonder if he knows just how broken he left her. 


End file.
